Learning to Love the Broken
The last six months have been a mix of beautiful and brutal. Our little family has overcome some big challenges and made some really fun memories together. But we’ve also experienced a whole lot of pain and heartbreak – we’ve been blindsided, wounded, crushed.
There have been people that I love who have hurt people that I love in ways I can’t even fathom. There have been ties that I thought were unbreakable that are now broken, boundaries that I thought immovable that have been shaken, and relationships that I took great comfort from that have now crumbled to the ground.
The biggest thing that I’ve learned from this season is that there is so much pressure to navigate these storms correctly – to say the right things, and more importantly not say the wrong things, to respond with the right words in the right timing to the right people, to be honest but not too honest, to protect the innocent and yet be transparent, to weep with those who weep yet have compassion for the guilty, to not offend anyone, to not withdraw, yet not to say too much, to be strong when in reality you’re not.
And I have done none of these things well. When much of my known world has imploded around me, I’ve found myself shell-shocked and disoriented. While so many of the ones I love are broken and bleeding, I find myself with just a pitiful box of band-aids that are laughable in light of these gaping wounds. My own lack in the face of this has been the hardest thing to take. When I so desperately want to bring healing, all I can offer is myself, and I am broken too.
“Love the broken.” <– This is what He whispered to me after yet another conversation that left everyone, myself included, feeling wounded and bruised. Right away, I thought of others – those who had caused the pain, and those who had been hurt… but “No,” He gently said, “Love the broken like I do.“
And then I realized it – He was talking to me. He doesn’t stand above me, shaming me for not responding correctly or loving others enough. He LOVES the broken, myself included. And He wants ME to love the broken, myself included, too.
Can I just say this? It set me free.
Free from the burden of my own brokenness. Free from the need to be the healer. Free from the pressure to somehow be the savior, to anyone, in any of this.
Those were shoes we were never meant to fill.
Even better, He fills them perfectly.